Life Goes On
by Gabrielle Alan
Summary: A little ditty 'bout Dylan and Marcooo. Two Canadian boys bored all summer loooong. One's been in Italy the other back hooome. What're they gonna do when they get alooone. MarcoDylan. Yeah, I changed the name, because I'm the author and I can. :P


Here's just a little ditty about Marco and Dylan..

Sitting on the couch, I wonder what to do. Goddamn this summer has been way too long. It wouldn't feel so long, if Marco hadn't been forced to go to freaking Italy. I'm going to school in the fall, which means I won't get to see him, as much. This summer was supposed to be for us. And here I am, stuck in fucking...the doorbell interrupts my thoughts.

I surge to my feet, and drag my feet over to the door. I swear if it's those crazy Mormons trying to save my soul again... I open the door, and the figure turns around.

Marco. I drink him in. He looks the same, 'cept for the hair; it's a bit longer.

"Hey, you," he smiles and I melt.

"You're, you're here, I thought you were stuck in Italy until the 15th?"

Her maneuvers around me, and I close the door.

"Convinced my parents I should take an early flight back home, they're still there."

I stare in shock, here I was just thinking about him, and he shows up at my door.

Toeing off his flip-flops, he sashays over to the couch. I can't move. This can't be real. Marco can't be here, weeks before his due date.

"What not happy to see me? Did I ruin your secret summer fling?" He teases me.

I lick my lips and close the distance between us. A hand slides down my cheek, and I press against it. Real. Not a dream.

I lean our foreheads together and inhale sunshine and salt. Then his lips are on mine and we're falling. Falling onto the couch, him beneath me. I nudge a knee between his thighs, and wrap my hands in his shirt. His hands find my hair and he sifts through it. I lay over him, pinning him to the couch. The cushions engulf him.

He suddenly jerks up, looking around. "Where are your parents."

I lean forward, "Wedding anniversary, they're gone for the next week."

He avoids my kiss. "And Paige?"

"She teaching at some Cheerleader Camp this summer." I lean in again, and am stopped again.

"Chill," I whisper against his ear. "There's no one here, Scout's Honor."

"You were never a scout," he mutters before pulling me down on top of him. Success.

We have all the time in the world. I take the time to explore his mouth, running my tongue over his, tasting coffee and mints. I suck on his tongue, extracting all the flavors, and he responds by nipping my bottom lip.

How long has it been? Hours? Minutes? I rest my head on his shoulder, and he continues his ministrations on my hair. I keep it long for him. I remember when I mentioned in passing about cutting it all off. Marco looked like I'd just run over his dog, back up over the dog, and then shot it.

When I lay like this, my boy under me, I'm afraid I will crush him. When I told him that, he smiled at me and said he liked my weight—liked the feeling of being completely surrounded.

I raise my head and he's got this really serious look on his face. I open my mouth to ask him about it.

"Let's go to your room." He says fast and jumbled. It takes me a minute to figure out what he said.

I raise myself on my arms to study him. Swollen lips, flushed face, lust-filled eyes. My dick stirs and he grins.

He takes a gulp of air. "I'm ready, I want to." He chews his lips.

"Are you sure?" He's he really ready for sex. We'd talked about it before he left. Neither of us have ever had sex before. Sure there was a hand job here and a blow job there. But Sex. Sex was a huge step.

He nods. I peck his lips before rising to my feet. He struggles up, sofa refusing to let him go.

On his feet, he wobbles. I catch him.

"Foot's asleep," he explains.

I lift him up and he laughs.

"What?"

"You love being the man."

"Last I check we're both men, unless you had some kind of surgery."

"You're so alpha."

"Never heard you complain."

"I'm not." He grins. "Just an observation." He wiggles in my arms, so I throw him over my shoulder and fireman-carry him up the stairs. Still laughing on the bed, I can't help but chuckle with him.

I cover his smile with my own, as I ease him out of his clothes. His entire body is darker than it was.

"No tan line I see. Naughty naughty." I chided him lightly.

"You know Europe, clothing optional at most beaches."

My smile falters, the thought of someone else seeing Marco naked is not a thought I like to entertain.

"Hey." A hand touches my face. "I was joking. I'm way too insecure about my body to go to a nudist beach."

"You don't have anything to be insecure about," I tell him seriously. How can he not know how gorgeous he is?

He surges upward kissing me hard: His own version of a thank you. He's hands reach under my shirt tugging it up.

"Shit," I mutter. "I don't have any Condoms." I jump off of the bed. Damn it, I look around the room, we've never needed them before and now.

"Dylan," sings a voice. I turn my head and see Marco waving a condom in the air.

God, he's so beautiful stretching, back arched, arms flung over head. I struggle out of my constricting jeans and jump onto the bed, aiming for the space next to him. On the second bounce I'm on top of him, lips once again together. This time though, the kisses are hot and fierce, tongue and teeth. I nibble down his torso, stopping at his right nipple. Oh sweet mother, he pierced it. A small silver hoop is threaded through it. I slip the ring on my pinky and tug gently. He coos and withers.

Oh, I'm going to have fun with that, but right now, I'm a man on a mission. He's hard and weeping; I lick the head, tasting his pre-cum, and he shudders. I suck his length and his hands dig into my scalp.

He mutters incoherent things, pulling roughly on my hair and I look up.

"Now."

I bob my head.

I reach over to my nightstand, and dig in the drawer for the bottle of lube I keep there.

I pop open the lid and rub it on my hands, warming it up. I return to his dick, this time placing whispering kisses over it, while I slip a finger in him. He tenses for a second, before relaxing. This isn't new, I've fingered him before, sex, sex is new. I nibble my lip. I hope I can do this.

Lovingly, I add another finger, then a third. My middle finger brushes his prostate and he howls. Maybe I should just do this, and save the sex for later. I don't want to hurt or tear him.

"Are you sure you want this?" I question him.

He looks me straight in the eye. "Yes."

I tug the condom on and coat it with more lube. I start to roll him over, but his hand shoots out.

"No, wanna see you."

I drape his legs over my shoulder, line up my cock, and press. Slow, so slow, I fight to not thrust. Finally, I'm in. He claws at my back, leaving trails of pleasure-pain. I attack his mouth as I take him deeper.

Tight…hot…fucking…damn. We rock together. And I fuck him harder, he's making the sweetest porno sounds. I palm his dick, stroking it in time to my strokes in him.

He shouts into my mouth and cum sticks us together, as my own cum fills the latex. I inch out of him, trying to cause as little pain as possible.

He curls up around me.

I look at him, and I know, I know that I could fall for this boy. I could love this boy. The thought scares me, but it's also so exciting.

I kiss his forehead.

"I'm glad your back."


End file.
